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Later that evening,as I wait for Matt to join me at the table he’d reserved in the trendy uptown restaurant where, as Marie pointed out, we have dinner on our anniversary every year, I’m still thinking about Tristan.
Maybe I just wanted to see you.
Why does he think he can say stuff like that to me? He hadn’t wanted to see me when it mattered. He hadn’t wanted to see me when I cried desperately every night…
I shut down the memories, quickly. There’s no point thinking about him, I tell myself sternly just as Matt arrives and heads toward me.
He’s tall and handsome, with a bright boyish smile. His hair, thick gold curls that make him look almost like a cherub, completes his scout-like appearance. Underneath the guileless looks, he’s a shark at his law firm, closing multiple high-profile cases every week, after making partner in just a few years of working there.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, leaning down to give me a kiss on the lips. “Something came up at work, last minute.” He smells good, and his cologne is sharp and spicy in the cool air of the restaurant. It’s a gift from me. A scent that smells as different as possible from…
I smile brightly. “It’s okay. I haven’t been waiting long.”
Matt’s soft brown eyes are concerned. “I wondered if there was a reason you’ve been avoiding me,” he says with a self-effacing smile. “A part of me was afraid you’d cancel our dinner.”
The truth is, I considered cancelling. Something about Tristan’s reappearance made everything else seem so unimportant.
Even Matt.
I swallow.
“You look lovely,” he tells me.
I made an extra effort with my appearance, choosing a deep burgundy dress with a beautifully cut neckline that exposes my shoulders. My makeup is light but flawless. I’ll never admit to anyone, even to myself, that the man on my mind while I dressed is not the one seated opposite me right now.
“Thanks, Matt,” I reply. “So do you.”
His eyebrows go up. “I look lovely?”
“Good…Cute...” He’s grinning and I chuckle softly. “Whichever you prefer.”
“I like cute,” Matt says with a wink. “It takes me back to high school and the girls in the cheer squad dying to get a taste of all this...” He gestures at himself. “Well, the teenage version, anyway.”
“You wish.”
We’re both laughing when I look up and see Tristan. Tall and impossibly, savagely handsome. I suck in a breath, my body reacting as if I’ve been kicked in the stomach. Anger rises inside me, and underneath, the knowledge that just looking at him, being in the same room with him, can turn my whole being upside down.
He’sflanked on one side by the manager of the restaurant, a smallish man wearing a perfect suit and an over-groomed mustache. On the other side is a petite blonde-haired woman with an impossibly tiny waist shown to perfection in a body-fitting designer dress.
“Are you alright?” Matt’s eyes search my face.
I force a smile and nod, yet my eyes go back to Tristan. As usual, I’m torn between my desire to run from him and the desire to be close to him, to touch him and feel his touch, to lose myself in his eyes, his scent…
God!Even with another woman by his side, I can’t stop wanting him. I focus on the woman, as if reminding myself of her presence will cure me of my wayward desires, but all I feel is resentment. Resentment and jealousy.
I’m not shocked when Tristan suddenly turns his gaze in my direction. His face breaks into a smile, as if seeing me is a happy surprise. He dismisses the manager, and with one hand curled loosely around his companion’s waist, strides over to our table, his expression as benign as if running into me having dinner with my boyfriend is the most natural and pleasant thing in the world to him.
That’s when I realize it’s very likely is not an accident that he’s here.
He stops beside our table. His arm-candy, as I have christened her uncharitably, is beautiful and silent at his side. “Hello, Cora.” Tristan’s voice is as pleasant as his smile. His eyes go from my face to Matt’s then back to me again. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“Yes.” I respond with a smile as fake as his. “What a surprise.”
He ignores me and turns his brilliant smile toward Matt, who’s watching our exchange with an interested, but puzzled expression. “I’m Tristan Kane. Cora gave me a tour at the Mercer Museum a few days ago.” He pauses and turns a wolf-like grin in my direction before facing Matt again. “This is Celine.”
Celine, glamorous, impossibly beautiful Celine, gives Matt a charming smile as he rises from his seat and takes her hand, dazzling him so much his cheeks turn red.
